


Gently Down the Stream

by Immi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immi/pseuds/Immi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie never would have imagined that caring about people would be such an active problem during her assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gently Down the Stream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadow_Knight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Knight/gifts).



From the start, Annie was not expecting any surprises during training.

Knocking down walls could bring surprises. Slaughtering thousands of people could allow for a small period of shock. Training was normal. Safe, if she wants to categorize the type of danger her talents are suited for and the brand she’s dealt with since her infiltration.

Training would hold the routine that the maelstrom of confusion following the fall of Wall Maria could never promise. She almost let herself look forward to it.

As her eyes drift over to the tall girl a few rows down for the twelfth time this hour, she almost wants to sigh at the appropriate end her state of spotty relief has reached.

Unexpected problems are everywhere.

* * *

She doesn’t want to say it’s the scent.

Annie has had her share of Titans clamoring around her, and the wasted heat that breathes off them can’t be compared to the tug in her navel whenever the freckled girl is in close proximity.

The familiarity is more in the way she moves. Her eyes skate over every person who dares to come within three meters of her. When she slumps in her seat, head resting casually on her hand, her fingernails dig into the back of her neck. When Annie’s eyes find her during a training exercise, she stiffens and visibly restrains herself from turning.

More recently, Annie has determined that it’s also in the grimace that stains her mouth whenever the mess hall has undercooked the meat.

Another infiltrator.

It’s a conclusion that comes far too soon with the established evidence, but the girl calls to her, and it’s too much like her own scream to deny. She doesn’t know if the years of being surrounded by people who would find their subset of talents unrecognizable it makes it obvious, but she can feel it in her bones.

So she keeps an eye on the girl.

* * *

Out of all the trainees, Krista is the last she would have expected to have anything to do with her mission. Too fragile. Too desperate to be liked. Some people would probably kill to have that combination on their hands, but the wall cult hasn’t bothered with the exploitation; their presence in Krista’s life is more secretive than their shoddy attempts at spying indicate.

The idea’s stuck, though, and Annie continues her surveillance an evening past her conclusion.

The wall cult’s designs allow it to neglect making anything out of such a vulnerable personality, but a lone scavenger behind enemy lines has no reason not to jump at every possible advantage.

Being aware of the possibility should be good enough.

Still, Annie steps softly within the shadows of the barracks, keeping her eyes trained on the small girl making her way through the entrance. Curiosity for the sake of it is asking for trouble. Annie should dismiss her interest in the full story behind Ymir’s fascination with the girl. The benefit of knowing a possible third party’s agenda is far too limited to bother.

Ymir isn’t even with Krista tonight. There’s really no—

To Annie’s very limited credit, she feels the presence behind her before the evening silence is broken.

“Here I thought I was special, but I guess your stalking fetish doesn’t discriminate, huh?”

Annie turns around smoothly to meet Ymir’s taunting smirk.

“We sleep in the same place. I can’t help reaching it after her.”

She doesn’t know why she bothers. Ymir’s teeth glint in the limited torchlight.

“Some people might call it creepy to follow girls around in the middle of the night,” Ymir says.

Annie shrugs. The plural is going a little far—even if that was her intent, Krista’s the only one she’s actively shadowed—but she isn’t the one sneaking up on her unsuspecting targets from behind. Ymir doesn’t appear bothered by the hypocrisy.

“Should I wait for the sun to be out?”

“Every little bit helps,” Ymir says, leaning back against the cabin wall. “I could give you a few pointers.”

Annie only feels slightly offended by that. Ymir isn’t the one who got caught unaware tonight. She takes a breath and lets her facial muscles twist into a smile. “Because you know how to pursue girls properly?”

“You’re gracing me with your presence, aren’t you?”

That gives Annie pause.

It shouldn’t. Unlike Eren, she knows how to talk to girls. She has no need to, and doesn’t see the point in wanting to, but silence is a choice for her. The stunned variety gets people killed.

Yet something about watching Ymir slouch against the barracks with her teeth bared stays her tongue for multiple heartbeats.

“No,” she says at last. She rounds the corner Krista took. “Good night.”

* * *

Annie doubts that it’s one of her more reasonable assumptions, but as time passes, she can’t help but think that Ymir is aware of their shared secret. When she feels Annie’s eyes on her, she no longer bothers keeping her gaze locked forward. She twists around and meets them with a dark grin and suggestive tilt of her head.

The look would make Annie roll her eyes if it hid the fear better. Practice makes it easy for Annie to ignore the ghosts lurking in her eyes when those moments happen. She’s seen that look so many times she’s almost bored of it, and for once, Ymir isn’t an exception.

The taunt in the expression keeps it from being entirely dull, though.

She knows.

She knows, and she knows that she knows, and she knows far too much beyond that.

If Ymir showed any signs of being invested in any side, this would be dangerous.

She doesn’t, though. Ymir is on Ymir’s side. If anything, the sense of companionship that Annie can feel stemming from that is the more dangerous aspect, but she allows it with the same carelessness that brought Eren into her life.

* * *

Ymir doesn’t have complete control over her abilities.

Annie makes a mental note. At this point, she knows it’s pointless to keep up her pretenses about her interest in Ymir, but as long as it’s there, she can turn it into something mildly productive.

It’s summer, and the blazing heat didn’t leave with the sun. Annie has too much experience with physical discomfort to let it annoy her, but she does use the warmth as an excuse for an evening exploration of the training grounds.

She’s probably as close to out of bounds as their commanding officers care to establish when she finds Ymir hunkered down next to a tree, steam puffing off her in little clouds.

Annie’s barely there long enough to establish that the lack of Ymir’s shirt makes her state even more obvious before Ymir’s head jolts up.

Her teeth are bared.

They don’t relax when Ymir’s eyes catch up with the rest of her. If anything, her lips strain into a snarl.

Annie wonders if Ymir realizes how feral her smiles are when they’re in close proximity. Her focus on Ymir’s mouth is yet another curiosity that she feels free to ignore, but when Annie is nearby, Ymir’s jaw flexes to show off her canines.

Like calls to like, after all.

Annie sits down.

Ymir scowls.

“For such a good teacher,” she rasps, “you sure are a crappy student. The sun’s been down for an hour.”

Annie ignores that and lets one of the stupidest things she could possibly say escape her mouth. “It stops when you remember which body you’re in.” She pauses, conscious of the untamed glint lurking in Ymir’s eyes as they watch each other. That’s her only excuse when she adds, unhelpfully, “You’re human.”

Ymir’s laugh sounds more like a shout, and Annie rejects the passing thought that it’s more efficient at calling their kind than hers in the same breath that she leans back on her haunches instead of pulling forward. A large puff of steam stains the tree trunk.

She’s grinning properly now, with her usual taunting slant, opening her mouth for a retort—and something shifts. The biting caution in her eyes dims, and the steam fades into the air around them, leaving drops of sweat to gather on her skin.

The words would be the same either way. Annie is sure of that.

“As much as you are.”

* * *

Annie wonders sometimes if she’s doomed to have her father’s personality follow her around.

Eren was obvious from the first day. She wouldn’t claim to appreciate the advance warning, but no one could say her association with him was a blind choice.

With Ymir, it’s easier to take it as a personal betrayal.

Since breaching the walls, no matter what the surface mission requires of her, Annie hasn’t forgotten her end objective. She doesn’t dwell on it, but she remembers. And even if she didn’t, her nature would bring her there eventually.

Ymir wants to survive. She looks after her own interests above all else. Annie can relate to that.

Ymir also thinks going with the flow can go to hell.

Annie doesn’t waste her time pretending that the echoes of her father in these people would matter to him any more than she pretends it will end up mattering to her. She still notices.

* * *

Ymir hasn’t had trouble with heat in ages, but she likes the tree the problem led her to.

Annie doesn’t have a particular attachment to it, but she’s developed the routine of going there in the middle of the night to stare at foliage.

Only in the middle of the night.

Annie could count the number of conversations they’ve had on one hand. The one time she accidentally found herself there before the sun had gone down, she managed to be grateful for that, because if Ymir’s raised eyebrows and smirk had gone any further, she probably wouldn’t have come back.

It’s a week before graduation.

“Are you still planning on the Military Police?”

A frown flickers across Annie’s face before she can help it. She holds back from saying that her part in the plan never allowed for making her own decisions because she shouldn’t have the urge to say any of that to begin with.

“I’m planning on surviving.”

Ymir nods.

Annie watches her out of habit.

Her breathing’s even. Her eyelashes linger lazily over her cheeks in a look of practiced inattention. There’s no teeth in her smile, and Annie isn’t sure she wants to consider how easily Ymir relaxes in her presence. It’s a long ways off from the first day of training and the strange, tense girl who captured her attention without trying.

She can’t decide if she regrets which pieces chose to stay the same.

A few minutes into her observation, Ymir finally glances in her direction. She pulls herself up against the tree and rests her head in the palm of her hand. Her fingers don’t go to her neck anymore.

They stare at each other, and for the first time, Annie knows there isn’t a chance that Ymir is seeing anything remotely similar. She’s stayed the course her father dropped her in. The past few years can’t have had the same effect on her that they have on Ymir.

Whatever Ymir does see, though, keeps her interest for several companionable minutes.

Then she huffs out a soft sigh and stands up the rest of the way.

“Good luck with that.”

Weeks later, Annie watches her final gamble get torn to ribbons, thinking of home and her father and of the way Ymir sometimes looks at Krista with the same horror that Annie might have known to look at Armin and Eren ( _her_ ) with if she’d ever approached their camaraderie with any sense.

Luck never would have been enough to help her.

The crystal hardens along her skin.

She’ll survive regardless.


End file.
